Take, Take, Take, Take, Take
by harlequinsmiles
Summary: Everything takes care of itself, but nothing tells you how to deal with it. Columbia realizes she's in love with Frank- who eats people's hearts for breakfast. Oneshot, uncarefully edited. Just for fun. Enjoy!


He had a cigarette in his left hand, a drink in his right, and that pouty look on his face that meant impending murder or sexual frustration. It was always hard to tell the difference.

But that was Frankie. Always after the next thrill. Today it was nicotine and alcohol; tomorrow he might catch Magenta's eye and my whole day would be spent avoiding them, the whole night with a pillow over my head to shut out the noise and muffle my sobs.

I remember the day it got bad. There had always been a little hitch inside me whenever I saw him, but I'd never guessed. . .no. A girl is sure acquainted with what she wants. Her body lets her know. But when I realized that hitch was inside my heart, and it _hurt_, I found myself staring at Frank's arm with a renewed understanding of the word 'Boss.' Gee, I'd thought the tattoo was funny before. Now it was no great shakes.

Anyway, I guess he'd said something real particular. He might have pronounced a word a certain way. I don't remember when it happened, but the point is I was talking to him at the time, and nobody hides nothin' from Frankie, especially somethin' that big and somethin' that directly related to sex. He's a magnet for innuendos.

He paused in speech, raised a quizzical brow at the expression on my face, and said with a grand air, "Columbia. . ."

I tell ya, I ain't never felt naughtier than that, even after some of the things that followed. That's _naughty_, if I do say so myself. I'd been caught out.

But the guilt faded fast as he finished his sentence. "I think it's about dinner time, don't you? Go and assist Magenta in the kitchen."

"Yessir," I said quietly. I'd developed a sudden fascination with my toes, on account of the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Awww." He lifted my chin with one long finger, forcing me to look at him. "Why the long face, child?"

Oh. . .of course he knew perfectly well what was the matter with me. He could read people like open books, and enjoyed listening to the sharp sound of their pages as he tore each out, one by one. Soon he would have a library full of us, people whose bindings were broken beyond repair.

Dammit, Frankie. Where is the love?

"Nothin," I explained, but he held my chin tight between thumb and forefinger so I couldn't look away. Trapped. "Just not feelin' like myself today, is all."

"What a shame!"

What a shame indeed. I didn't know how to tell him that I was exhausted from all his mindfucking. It probably wasn't the safest bet, anyway.

I scurried off to follow orders, and dropped a lot of utensils in the process of making dinner. I kept thinking of those books in the library, and the sound of me tearing in half.

Later, I lay in bed, fitfully trying to fall asleep. But something in me had become extremely disturbed. What had changed? The answer was nothing. I'd simply been warming up to him the whole time. People don't start out meaning something to you. You sink into them like a hot bath; slowly, carefully. Everything takes care of itself- it's just that nothing tells you how to deal with it.

A teardrop landed on my pillow with a dull thud.

_Shit. Pathetic. That's not how it works around here, Columbia. We don't care about anyone except ourselves. Pull yourself together._

I started at a sudden noise in the room, but it was too dark to see.

"Hello?"

The closet door creaked open, and I sat up with a loud shriek.

"Goodness, Columbia, you're going to wake the whole household!"

Ashamedly, I cleared my face of tears, fruitlessly hoping that he wouldn't notice them. "Frankie! Sheesh, try knockin' once in awhile- you almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Well. I thought you had something of mine, so I came to reclaim it." He held up the lacy object and lent me a devilish grin.

"Oh. Well. In that case." I had flicked on the light in haste, and we both squinted in the harsh glare.

"How are you feeling, by the way?" As he advanced toward me, I shrank back under the covers. He wasn't even coming on strong yet, but Frankie could make you feel naked in a winter coat. So in my vulnerable state, the need to hide under any blankets that were in reach seemed a perfectly sane one. "You look simply. . .awful, if you don't mind me saying. Have you been crying?"

"Me? Not a chance," I said feebly, grasping at straws. It was like hiding under cellophane, for all the good it did me.

"Oh, now. Liar, liar!"

_Pants on fire,_ I thought, and I suddenly had the simultaneous urge to laugh and burst into tears. He did make me feel rather warm in the stomach. I let out a sad little giggle.

I'd forgotten, for the moment, his true nature. It's easy to believe you're safe with thinking, "Woah, momma! Check out the cute hitch hiker!" until you've picked him up and he pulls out the chainsaw and cuts you into little bits and pieces for the sheriff to find later.

You could say that I sold my soul with that slip of the tongue.

You could also say that hell is a giant party.

Don't get me wrong- there _is_ no love there. Only an insatiable sort of lust that doesn't come close. But it's still. . .a great time. Especially when the snake that offers you the forbidden fruit is Frankie.

"Why don't you tell me what's ailing you? I think I could make you feel better."

As he drew closer, I had little time to think. I didn't dare tell him the truth. Perhaps he thought I was merely interested. I don't think he knew what love was. Or how to love anyone.

But he sure knew how to fuck.


End file.
